A Little Jealousy
by wallflower1208
Summary: Artemis has Orion. Apollo isn't happy. Rated T just to be safe.


**A/N:** I wrote this for my independent study on Greek mythology last year. Apollo and Artemis have always been my favorite gods, and I love their innocent, brotherly/sisterly relationship. There was a "scholarly" part of this story that also existed, but I cut it out and just left the creative parts – I like them much better, anyway. I got an A for this story, so hopefully you guys like it as much as my professor did! Maybe I'll even branch out and create some more Apollo/Artemis stories… who knows!

**A Little Jealousy**

We are born nine days apart, my sister and I, deities of the Sun and the Moon, destined for greatness. Our father's wife is less than thrilled. Our births solidify a new order, one from which she has nothing to gain, and everything to lose. "You will not give birth on _terra firma_!" Hera had commanded of our mother – simply another innocent woman caught up in one of our father's lustful cravings – when she first learned of our conception. "You will wander, weak and weary, wander until your bones break with the pain of keeping you upright."

Artemis is the easier birth. She springs forth as if she is simply another layer of our mother's skin, shedding itself to become a unique entity. I am more complicated; our mother labors for nine days, Hera's curse still upon her, even with the assistance of my sister. It is remarkable that at this early stage of our lives, Artemis and I are already as different as night and day, separate, yet tied together by an inexplicable thread. What is even more incredible is that I have already come to see her as the most important person in my life, the only one – besides our mother – for whom I would do anything.

And so our story begins.

* * *

She has become too close with Orion. They spend every waking moment together, traipsing through the forests, challenging each other to archery contests, whispering their secrets, their hopes, their desires. It drives me mad. Orion craves her, I am certain, but my sister belongs to no one. She has taken a vow to maintain her purity; as a child, she even asked our father for his permission to remain a virgin for eternity. I refuse to let a mere, undeserving mortal take away all for which Artemis stands.

I am not averse to love – of course I am not. I have had my own experiences with the concept, some more memorable than others. Daphne is the one I hold in highest regard, the one that I regret, every day, letting escape. "I do not want you!" she had said to me, her tone filled with spite, as I, for the umpteenth time, declared my undying love for her. "You respect your sister's wishes, my lord, why not mine? I wish to remain pure! Keep away from me!"

I have never faulted Daphne for daring to compare herself to my sister. In many ways, they are the same, more similar than Artemis and I could ever hope to be. I often wonder what could have happened if Eros hadn't struck Daphne with his lead arrow; if I would have been able to seduce her away from her vows. Our father has done it to mortal women many times, too often for anyone to keep count. Perhaps I was only infatuated with her because of Eros' meddling nature – or perhaps he had simply enhanced feelings that were already there, albeit dormant. Either way, I can certainly understand the feelings my sister harbors for Orion. I held Daphne as she transformed, watched the bark encase her body and the leaves swirl gracefully around her face, and felt as if my immortal heart was being ripped out of my chest.

But it is not the same, and I will not allow my sister's reputation to suffer.

"You had better come quickly, sister. Candaeon has attacked Opis, your favorite."

Artemis glances over at me. She has been out in the forest for hours, practicing her already flawless archery technique, and I can tell she hasn't taken kindly to my interruption. "I know no Candaeon," she says sharply, turning back to her target – a leaf pinned to a far-off pine tree.

I lean against another tree, knowing that my casual tone will pique her interest. "He is an evil, mortal being, who has entered your forest and attacked one of your nymphs. Rightfully, he fears your wrath, and so is now trying to escape before you can come after him. But believe what you will, sister. Opis is terribly frightened," I add as an afterthought. Artemis cherishes her followers. An attack on one of them is an attack on her.

Predictably, Artemis narrows her eyes and grips her bow so tightly that it nearly snaps in half. "Then he shall pay," she snaps, stalking past me, "As will you, brother, if you are merely making this up to goad me."

She is closer to the truth than she realizes.

We make our way to the sea, Artemis in the lead. "Where is the coward?" she asks, skimming the waves for the nonexistent Candaeon.

I shade my eyes and point to the horizon. "Just there. Can you strike him from here?" Only I can question Artemis' archery skill and live to tell the tale. Taunting her is the surest way to guarantee that she will become furious enough to prove me wrong. "Or would you prefer to move closer?"

Orion, swimming for his life against the scorpion I sent to lure him from his home, is now just a speck on the waters, his identity discernible to no one; he may as well be a hawk, skimming its claws along the waves in search of a meal. Artemis cocks her head to the side, judging his distance, then smirks and pulls a silver arrow from her quiver. "I would think that you of all people, brother, would be able to come up with a better challenge," she jeers, setting her bow and raising it to her shoulders. "This is far too easy."

She draws her elbow back, and the next thing I know, a speck of silver is hurtling through the air, directly towards the black shadow in the distance. A shriek rings out – a pain-filled, wrenching noise that makes even my hair stand on end. Artemis immediately drops her bow, her eyes wide, confusion etched on her lovely face. "Apollo?"

I don't answer. I can't speak the truth aloud.

Artemis turns to me. "Apollo," she says again, and though her voice trembles, it is not with sorrow or fear. She has recognized the scream, the voice that has soothed her for weeks. I can see it in her eyes, like looking into a mirror. "Apollo, who have I killed?"

* * *

Artemis and I have not spoken for days. She has left Olympus temporarily, taking refuge with our mother on Delos. I don't mind her absence. It hurts me to have caused her pain, of course; my treachery hangs like a cloud over us both. But I am not so unwise as to believe that her anger will last. My sister is cold, forbidding, unwilling to forgive…but we are bound together by something beyond either of our understanding. She will come back.

"She suffers greatly, Apollo," our mother tries to tell me, the one time I make a "surprise" visit to Delos. Artemis is nowhere to be seen. She can read my mind without trying. "You tricked her into killing her closest companion. I love you, dear one, but I cannot say that I agree with your actions."

Our mother is the epitome of beauty, of gentleness, of love. We owe our lives to her, but she has always related with Artemis more so than with me. I wouldn't expect her to agree with what I've done – or even to understand it. "Where is she, Mother?"

Our mother shakes her head, chestnut curls bouncing from side to side. "I cannot tell you, Apollo. Your sister has come to me for comfort. She will return to you when she is ready."

I have no choice but to leave empty-handed.

The days pass slowly, achingly, and just when I think I can no longer stand being without my sister, she returns, haughty and short-tempered as usual, but with a softer look in her eyes. She converses normally with everyone except for me, going out of her way to avoid me or send contemptuous glances in my direction. Her behavior isn't entirely unexpected, though it pains me to know that Artemis can't stand even the sight of me. She is my twin, my other half. Without her, I am empty. Without her, I don't make sense.

I finally come to her one evening. She stands on her balcony, still as a statue, the bright light of the moon causing her pale skin to glow like marble. I approach her cautiously, so as not to startle her, but my attempt is futile – she is aware of my presence, as always. "I will not forgive you," she says through gritted teeth, refusing to turn and look at me. The gentle wind tosses her auburn curls around her shoulders, which are smooth as porcelain. She looks like our mother. "You have betrayed me, Apollo."

I sigh, suddenly full of self-loathing for all the pain I have caused her. "I was only trying to protect you, sister."

"Protect me from what?" Artemis snaps, whipping around and glaring at me. "Orion was my _friend_, Apollo. He had no intention of trying to seduce me!"

I scowl. "You are blinded, Artemis, you see only what you wish to –"

"And you, Apollo, are an ignorant fool!" Artemis interrupts heatedly. "You tricked me into killing my friend so that you could eradicate your own feelings of envy. Quite unlike you, my dear _brother_," she sneers, placing as much anger as she can muster into that last word. "Such sin doesn't suit you."

She is right, but two can play this game. "Were you not jealous of Daphne, Artemis?" I ask lightly, and her gaze hardens. "You badger me constantly about the laurel crown that I keep. Is it wrong, then, for me to despise _your_ love for a mortal?"

Artemis' eyes fill with tears, and I know that I have struck a chord, pushed deeper than intended. "I love you above any other, sister," I continue softly, stepping forward and taking her hands in mine. She doesn't pull away. "You are my life, my light, my world. Can you not see that?"

Artemis smiles slightly, reaching up to brush a lock of hair from my forehead. "I can never stay mad at you," she murmurs, a few salty tears escaping down her cheeks.

I cradle her face in my hands and wipe the tears away with my thumbs. "We will put him in the sky, Artemis," I whisper, leaning in until our foreheads touch. "Father will not refuse it if you ask him. I was cruel and callous, I admit – and Orion deserves to be remembered."

My sister nods slowly, considering the proposal. "The heavens shall be much brighter, then," she says quietly, leaning back to stare at the inky sky. "He shall smile on the world."

I reach down to grab her hand. "And you, my dear sister," I say, squeezing it gently, "Can keep watch over your stars."

* * *

Thanks for reading! =]


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